


pale but triumphant

by nosecoffee



Category: Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (TV 2016)
Genre: Arrests, F/M, Gender Changes, M/M, Making Out, Modern Setting, Multi, Pierre's a girl, Sexual References, The bear incident, for kicks, hangover cures, kink negotiations, referenced threesome, threesome f/m/m
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8502055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: "Put some clothes on and get out." She spat and padded to the kitchen to make a few prairie oysters."Don't be like that, Petrushka!" Dolokhov called. "You were much sweeter last night!""I had a substantial amount more vodka in me last night!" Pierre called back. A modern take of the bear incident.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the book

"You know what you should never do, Andrei?" Pierre asked, her free hand stuffed under her chin. She blew a lock of hair out of her face.

"What?" Andrei asked, in the tone he used when he wanted her to stop fucking around the subject.

"Get drunk after being accepted into college." Dolokhov shifted next to her, elbowing her in the ribs, and she kicked him.

"Lemme guess," Andrei drawled through the phone. "You got your acceptance letter last night."

"Give the man a prize!" Pierre said, in a sarcastic voice. She sighed into her pillow. "I did. And in celebration, I got my fake ID out and went clubbing."

"You idiot," Andrei muttered. "What did you do?"

"Turn on the news; I'm famous." She murmured, kicking Dolokhov in the shin again. "Katishe bailed me and my drinking buddies out of jail last night. We, apparently, tied a raccoon to a cop and threw them in the river."

"We also trespassed." Anatole groaned into the wall.

Pierre nodded. "Yeah, and also we trespassed."

"Jesus F. Christ, P." Andrei sighed. "What'd you do that for?"

"I'm always such a shut in, Andrei. I was celebrating. Besides, we can't all be family men, with a pregnant wife, and a steady income and mortgage." Pierre protested.

"Don't bring Lisa into this." He growled.

 _"Lisa_ would agree with me. I was _celebrating,_ Andrei!"

"And now your mugshot's on television."

Pierre huffed, pulling on the sheet that her ungrateful bedfellow was tugging on. "Okay, so it's not gonna go down well with the college."

"You won't exactly be their pride and joy," Andrei agreed.

"Shit," she muttered. "Well, I'll let you go. I've got three hangovers to deal with and some drunk texts to delete."

"Good luck with that, P."

Andrei hung up and Pierre tossed her phone across the room, momentarily face-planting in the pillows, groaning softly.

"You didn't tell your friend that you also had awesome sex, like, three times, last night." Anatole said, sitting up, the sheet settling on his shins.

Pierre stuck her tongue out at him and replied, "Right, cause I was gonna tell him that I also had a threesome with my drinking buddies. That would've gone down well." She got up and crossed the room to find her pyjama shorts.

Dolokhov whistled from the bed and she flipped him the bird.

"You've already fucked us, Petrushka," he said, glancing at Anatole, who was halfway off the bed, rummaging through his clothes like the raccoon from the night before. "No need to get defensive."

"Shut up, Fedya," she snapped, pulling on the shorts and a t-shirt. "You forget that I'm well-acquainted with the knives in my kitchen and your dick. And, as you know from last night, I'm also not afraid to mouth off to cops."

Anatole fell off the bed laughing.

The two men were quite a sight; both naked, Dolokhov relaxed in the sheets, Anatole unashamed and unabashed at his nudity. They were both quite handsome, and dulled down by their hangovers, almost tolerable.

"Put some clothes on and get out." She spat and padded to the kitchen to make a few prairie oysters.

"Don't be like that, Petrushka!" Dolokhov called. "You were much sweeter last night!"

"I had a substantial amount more vodka in me last night!" Pierre called back.

She watched through the doorway as Anatole tried to hop into his jeans. He fell over with a thump.

 _No wonder Katishe had looked so disgusted last night,_ Pierre thought. What had she been thinking, going home with those two?

Dolokhov wandered into the kitchen when Pierre was halfway through her prairie oyster. She gestured to the other two on the bench and he picked one up with a grateful look towards her.

"I really do like you, Petrushka," he said after gulping down a good third of the cocktail.

"Okay," she replied between disgusted sips.

"Seriously," he insisted. "Anatole too."

"What are you expecting, Fedya?" Pierre inquired. "Another awkward threesome in my bedroom? Another wild night that ends in police custody and a hangover?"

Dolokhov watched over her over the rim of his glass.

"That's not me, Fedya. It's just not."

"Did you make prairie oysters?" Anatole yelled from the bedroom, accompanied by another thump.

"There's one on the counter for you!" Pierre called back.

"I don't care if that's not you," Dolokhov said, leaning against the kitchen bench. "I like whatever you are now. Sober and angry and regretful, but still you."

Pierre put her glass down - it was nearly empty anyway - and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"You've already gotten in my pants." She said. "What more do you want from me?"

"To see you again, after this, with a substantial amount less vodka in you." Dolokhov replied, putting his own glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

His mouth tasted distinctly of Worcestershire sauce, but she doubted she tasted any better - what with the stale taste of old vodka and morning breath along with the prairie oyster - so she just kept kissing him.

Pierre's hand went to his hair, cupping the back of his skull and tugging on strands occasionally, while his went to her waist, his fingers sliding and rubbing at the small of her back, beneath her t-shirt.

Andrei was gonna flip when he found out that she almost screwed two guys in the backseat of a cab. And then actually screwed them at home after getting arrested.

Around the point that Dolokhov had lifted her onto the kitchen bench and was trying to get his jeans undone, they heard a loud gulping noise and turned to see Anatole watching them with an amused look and half his prairie oyster gone.

"Don't let me stop you," he said, gesturing between them. "Continue."

"Didn't think you were a voyeur." Dolokhov commented.

"Whatever floats my boat." Anatole grinned. "And watching you two fuck would float."

Pierre raised an eyebrow and hopped off the counter, watching Anatole's pout appear. He always did that when he didn't get his way.  
  
Pierre picked up her cocktail and finished it off.

"Also, I called Hélène." Anatole added, putting his glass in the sink. "She's coming to get us."

Dolokhov nodded, "I'd better finish getting dressed then."

He wandered to the bedroom and Anatole followed after him.

Anatole really was quite submissive, both in public and in bed. Dolokhov, on the other hand, was more dominant, scolding his companion and smiling when Anatole wasn't looking.

Really, it was better that Anatole had interrupted them. It wasn't like she left condoms lying around the house.

Now that she was alone, she could think about what Katishe had said on the drive home from the police station last night, while Dolokhov and Anatole were singing a drinking song in the backseat.

_"Papa's health declined. He's in hospital. We were in the waiting room when you called. They think he has a few hours at most."_

Pierre took out her phone. Katishe had texted her at 4:30 am, asking if they'd gotten in alright.

Pierre hadn't replied, and it was 9:20 now. She sighed in resignation and took off her glasses to rub her face.

Celebration _indeed._

A knock at the door broke her out of her reverie and Pierre out her glasses back on before padding to the door.

A pale, slender, dark-haired woman stood opposite her, a charming smile on her red lips.

"Pierre, I assume?" The woman asked.

Pierre leaned on the doorframe, her arms folded. "Hélène, I assume?" Pierre replied in a similar tone, and the woman nodded, her smile widening.

"My brother and his friend in there?"

"Anatole and Fedya?"

"That would be them." Pierre gestured for Hélène to enter.

"Come inside; they're just getting dressed."

She watched Hélène smirk and felt her face heat up. "They keep you up all night?"

"You'd be surprised." Pierre replied, shortly. She rubbed her neck, attempting to cover up the hickeys that Dolokhov had delivered the night before. She only succeeded in drawing Hélène's attention to them.

"I hope they didn't get you into too much trouble." Hélène said, eyes now fixed on the hickeys. "Anatole said you'd had quite the night out."

"He conveniently left out the part where we got arrested."

Hélène blanched, her smile disappearing momentarily.

"But it's okay, my sister bailed us out." Pierre insisted.

"Well, at least you're all safe. Thank you for getting them out."

"It's alright."

She felt simultaneously attracted to this woman and repulsed by her.

Dolokhov and Anatole emerged, fully dressed and laughing from the bedroom and Hélène rushed towards Anatole and slapped him up the back of the head.

"You _idiot!_ You got arrested, _again?_ What's _wrong_ with you? What did I say? And this poor girl paid your bail-"

"My sister did-" Pierre tried to say but Hélène cut her off with a charming smile.

"Family money. Trust me, I know how it works." She turned back to Anatole and started berating him again, dragging him from the apartment by his sleeve. "Thank you for taking care of them," and they disappeared into the hallway.  
  
Dolokhov kissed her quickly before hurrying after them.

Pierre sighed, and slumped against the wall when the door closed behind him, rubbing her face again.

She wandered to the bedroom, hangover tapering off, and she heard her phone buzz on the floor by her laundry hamper.

 **Unknown number:** _it's Fedya. had a great time last night. We should do it again ;) soon. Wednesday?_

Pierre went to reply and another message popped up.

**Unknown number:** _Hélène likes you too. Says she wants a go of you ;) think about it? Anatole might be onto something with that voyeur stuff ;;;;;)_

Pierre bit her lip.

 **Pierre:** _Wednesday works._

Her phone buzzed again. It was Katishe this time.

 **Katishe:** _papa just passed away. Read the will. He left everything to you. You're Countess Bezukhova now._

Pierre dropped her phone in shock.

 

F **in.**

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos and a comment if you liked this, my tumblr is @nosecoffee if you want to follow me. Hope you enjoyed this. Thanks.


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